


Influenced

by LumosLyra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Slash, Fluff, Gift Fic, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Slytherins, Humor, Implied Femslash, Lust Potion/Spell, Post-Hogwarts, Prompt Fic, Scheming, Smut, Wedding Planning, well meaning friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 21:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17553644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumosLyra/pseuds/LumosLyra
Summary: A few well-meaning friends slip Draco and Hermione a mild lust potion meant to help them open up with one another since they've been practically dancing around each other for several years now.  Things may or may not go according to plan."When they broke apart, the witch actually giggled as her head thudded back against the wall.  Her face was flushed and her lips swollen from their kiss.  “Can I consider your tongue down my throat a proposal? Because I warn you now, I don’t let just anyone kiss me that way,” she teased, nipping at his lower lip with her teeth."





	Influenced

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RavennaAngelline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavennaAngelline/gifts).



“Red, remind me again why we’re in a muggle grocery store?”  Pansy Parkinson eyed the rows of canned foods with disdain as Ginevra Weasley led them through the store, Harry and Theo trailing behind the pair.  Hadn’t the muggles ever heard of fresh produce?  Why on earth did they feel the need to trap fruits and vegetables in small metal containers filled with water and… whatever corn syrup was. 

 

“I _told_ you, Parks,” Ginny said, rounding a corner to an aisle containing shelf upon shelf of sweets.  “There is absolutely no way Hermione will accept a box of wizarding chocolates without first checking it for spells.” 

 

“So, in this harebrained plan of yours, you’re disguising chocolates you’ve purchased from Merlin knows where to look like muggle ones?”  Pansy’s eyes trailed over several bags of colorful candies which were hanging off of small hooks.  She plucked one that promised to be both sour and sweet and silently passed them back to Harry.

 

Ginny rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, mulling over the choices on the shelf.  There were boxes of all shapes and sizes with truffles, nougats, caramels, toffees, and even bits of chocolate covered fruit. “George kind of ruined any chance I had at getting her to accept wizarding chocolates when he gifted her some that made her hair shift colors for a month on her last birthday.”

 

Theo snickered, peeking over Harry’s shoulder to examine the bag of candy Pansy had passed him.  “That was great.  Every time she came down to  the I.M.C. her hair was a bright red, not too far off from the color of those.”  Theo pointed to a bag of candies on a shelf promising a spicy cinnamon flavor.

 

“Probably because she was in proximity to Malfoy,” Harry supplied, pecking the wizard on the cheek and grabbing a bag of the candies he had pointed out.  The cinnamon candies and the sweet and sour blend were added to a small wire basket on his arm which already contained a bag of lime flavored crisps that Pansy just had to have as well as a jar of peanut butter for Ginny. 

 

“I still can’t believe it took her two days to figure out it was based on her mood,” said Pansy who was carefully examining the shelves for other possible candies to take home.

 

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of his best friend with her wild curls changing color.  When she was calm, they stayed the lovely shade of brown they were naturally, but when they started to turn black or orange, the entire room cleared out.  “She was livid.  Broke a few priceless Black family artefacts in her rage, not that I really minded of course.  Though when she broke that one vase Walburga yelled for an hour, even behind her curtains.”

 

“Didn’t George walk around with _SNEAK_ written across his face for a week before he finally relented and performed the counter-curse?” Theo asked, recalling the image of the shimmering black color Hermione’s hair turned once she realized what had happened.  He never wanted to see her hair that color again, especially because she was entirely too quick with her wand and his laughter that day nearly caused him to gain a new scar.

 

Harry nodded.  “The scars from the pustules are still fading, so you can still see it in the right light.  George thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that the owner of a joke shop was branded for honing his craft.  Though she did threaten to do much worse.”

 

Ginny plucked a box from the shelf, checking the back to ensure the size and shape of the chocolates were similar to those she had purchased from some back-alley shop somewhere off of Abysm Alley which ran parallel to Knockturn Alley.  “Perfect.” 

 

“Remind me what these purported sweets are supposed to do again?” asked Harry.

 

The apples of Ginny’s cheeks turned pink.  “Well, the witch at the shop said they would just give the pair of them a bit of… encouragement.  You know… in the, well…” Ginny’s voice dropped to a whisper, “ _S-E-X_ department.”

 

Pansy pinched the bridge of her nose, eyeing the tall, redheaded witch with an air in incredulity.  In the bedroom, the witch had one of the foulest mouths Pansy had ever come across but in public she acted worse than a proper pureblood society wife at a charity luncheon.  “Red.  You are twenty-five years old and you can’t bring yourself to say the word ‘sex’ in public, yet you went and bought practically illegal _Persuasion Chocolates_ to force Granger and Drake into finally doing something about all of that unresolved sexual tension?”

 

“What?  It’s not like they’re filled with _Amortentia_!” she remarked with a huff. “The two of them been dancing around each other for years, Parks.  Years.”

 

“I’m not saying that they haven’t.  But _Persuasion Chocolates_ , Red?  Really, you might as well just cast a lust spell at them.” Pansy crossed her arms over her chest and stood her ground.

 

“It’s a mild formula…”  Ginny attempted to explain.  “If they only eat one or two, they’ll just find themselves a bit more… open, if you will.  It might give them a chance to actually talk instead of snipe and quip or pretend that they’re not ridiculously attracted to each other.” 

 

Theo smoothed his hand over Ginny’s long, red hair.  “Breathe, Gin.”

 

Pansy eyed the muggle coming down the aisle and ushered everyone from where they were standing but not before she grabbed a second bag of the sweet and sour candies from the shelf.

 

“Aren’t both parties required to partake for the potion to take effect?” Harry asked quietly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as the four of them started walking towards the front of the store to pay for their purchases. 

 

Theo chuckled, throwing his arm around Harry’s shoulder.  “Granger pretends not to have a sweet tooth, but she can’t resist a truffle and Draco goes through at least one box of Honeydukes’ finest a week.”

 

Pansy’s full lips were upturned in a sly smirk. “Leave the pair of them in the room and I can guarantee you that Drake will pluck a chocolate from the box before Granger even has a chance to offer him one.”

 

“How do you know about Hermione’s love of truffles, hm?”  Harry asked, nudging the other wizard in his ribs as he was tucked under his arm. 

 

“I didn’t convince her to be a liaison to the centaurs for the latest Triwizard Tournament by my good looks and wit alone.”  Theo grinned with a waggle of his eyebrows to which Harry released a snort, prompting Theo to plant a kiss on the top of his head. 

 

“Will you two focus?” Pansy chided with a snap of her fingers, resigned to the idea that they were essentially forcing their two friends into a corner as Ginny pulled the items from the handbasket and placed them on the belt for the cashier to ring up.  Neither Theo nor Harry managed to look particularly guilty at her admonishment.

 

“The biggest question is, how can we get the two of them alone?”

 

……….

 

Hermione idly twirled a curl around one of her fingers, eyeing the box of chocolates sitting on the table beside her.  She’d spent the better part of the day in the library at Grimmauld Place helping Harry research hand-fasting ceremonies for his upcoming wedding to Theodore Nott. Of course, the wizards wanted something steeped in tradition but didn’t want to go through with one of the more common hand-fastings which most witches and wizards opted for when they tied the knot. 

 

No, the boys decided they wanted something special and they had practically begged her to help.  Even Ginny and Pansy had squealed with delight when she finally capitulated, handing her a box of her favorite muggle chocolates as a reward-cum-bribe for helping.  Ginny had been put in charge of finding a string quartet for the reception while Pansy and Blaise were traipsing about in Wizarding Paris looking at table linens and center pieces.

 

Hermione, being the best at research, hit the books.

 

For this reason, she had given up her Saturday afternoon to sit in the musty library at Harry’s home in order to find something that would make their nuptials perfect.  Something traditional yet unique and while she hadn’t quite found that yet, she was bound and determined to do so.  There had to be something appropriate out there, but if worst came to worse she could probably just work on inventing a new hand-fasting.  Given her position in the Department of Magical Research she did everything from breaking down spells into their runic and arithmanic components to examining case law for the Wizengamot.  She also occasionally liaised with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.  

 

Being that she was standing for Harry – calling herself ‘best man’ was just as odd as ‘best woman’… and ‘maid of honor’ didn’t seem to work when you were standing for the groom, not the bride, especially when the groom was marrying another groom, this was only one of several inane tasks she had been asked he help with. 

 

Cake tasting, however, had been her favorite.  For all that her parents were dentists and had practically banned sweets when she was a child, she loved a bit of sugar here and there.  Okay, maybe more than a bit.

 

She released the curl from around her finger, feeling it spring back as she closed her latest book with a satisfying thud.  This task was proving much harder than she originally thought.  In all honesty, she had exhausted every book in the library at Grimmauld Place and didn’t fancy making the trek to Scotland to go through the Hogwarts Library.  The British Wizarding Library was closed for renovations after one of the rarer tomes went rogue and barricaded itself in with one of the library staff members as it hiccupped flames, sparks, and jolts of probably illegal spells.  The staff member eventually contained the book, but now the entire library was under quarantine until they could figure out exactly what spells the book had cast.

 

The only other person she even knew who had a substantial library in Britain was…

 

A flush rose to Hermione’s cheeks as an image of the man in question popped into her mind.  He was tall with finely sculpted muscles from years spent on a broom with short, tousled hair the color of cornsilk.  The icy grey-blue of his eyes mesmerized her even though he wasn’t in the room, reminding her of the gentle rain which came at the end of a thunderstorm.  The scent of his skin had always smelled of fresh herbs, sin, and summer, hadn’t it?  She plucked another truffle from the box and popped it in her mouth.  How many was that now?  Four?  No, five.

 

There was a gentle heat pooling in her abdomen that she was desperately trying to ignore.

 

She gazed longingly at the floo, knowing if she was going to get anything accomplished in her quest to find the perfect hand-fasting for Theo and Harry, she would have to pull herself up by the britches and floo into Malfoy Manor.  Which is exactly where _he_ happened to be.

 

It was Saturday afternoon.  Saturday afternoons meant tea with his mother followed by strolls through the garden and a lazy flight through the orchards before he met up with the blokes for a night of billiards and darts at the pub.

 

How did she know all of this?  She didn’t fancy him.  She didn’t… though the sensual way he was removing his shirt in her mind made her consider otherwise for a brief moment.  Hermione shook her head, ridding herself of the image, though the memory of that sexy smirk of his lingered for a bit too long.

 

She could do this.

 

Grabbing the box of chocolates for courage (and because her mother taught her never to arrive anywhere empty handed), she smoothed the front of her sundress down before stepping in the floo and calling out her destination. 

 

Stepping out of a large ornate fireplace, Hermione found herself in one of the receiving rooms in Malfoy Manor. It was a light and airy space with hooks for travelling cloaks and several tables upon which to set packages.  She placed the chocolates down on a nearby table and waited, knowing someone would’ve been altered to her passing through the wards and would likely arrive shortly.

 

She was admiring one of the paintings on the far wall when she heard the sound of shoes on the hand-scraped wood floors just beyond the receiving room.  A flutter in her stomach told her that the sound wasn’t the dainty footfalls of Narcissa Malfoy but more likely, the heavier, graceful stride of her son.  The father, of course, was still imprisoned in Azkaban.

 

The doors to the room opened and Hermione was pretty sure a choir of angels started singing as soon as she set her eyes upon her target.  He was flushed from exertion, probably due to flying or so she thought until she noticed his hands and forearms were covered in fine bits of soil. 

 

Ah.  Gardening today with Narcissa had apparently lasted longer than expected. 

 

The sleeves of his white oxford were rolled up over his forearms and the knees of his trousers had a streak of mud running along the seam.  He looked so rugged standing there all covered in earth while the light sheen of sweat made him practically glisten. 

 

“Pardon my appearance, Granger.  We weren’t expecting you.” The room suddenly felt very warm and Hermione resisted the urge to fan herself.  Had he always said her name with such finesse?  The room seemed to go hazy for a moment except for the fact that she could see him as clear as day.  Perhaps she should’ve had something a bit more substantial than chocolates to eat, having skipped lunch while researching.

 

He took another step towards her, casting a spell to rid his hands and forearms of the dirt he now realized was there.  “Granger?”  He snapped his fingers and cast a tentative glance towards her.  “Hello?  Granger!”

 

She snapped out of whatever strange reverie she had been in and blushed a pretty pink, wringing her hands together.  “Sorry, Malfoy.  I was um… lost in my thoughts.”  She picked up the box of chocolates and held it out to him in an effort to apologize for her stupor, knowing how much he loved anything sweet.

 

“I’m in need of your library, if I can possibly impose,” she started, watching while Draco grinned with delight, plucking two chocolates from the box.  “Theo and Harry are insisting on a hand-fasting that is both traditional and unique.  I’m having a bit of trouble finding something that isn’t so widely used... and I don’t really want to have to go through the trouble of creating a new bond if I don’t have to.”

 

She bit her bottom lip, waiting for his reply.  She felt suddenly nervous to be in his company, though she honestly couldn’t help undressing him with her eyes.  The man was gorgeous, even with mud on his trousers.

 

Draco popped the second chocolate into his mouth as he reached for a third.  He knew he shouldn’t be such a glutton for them, but he got in enough exercise his figure never seemed to be in jeopardy from his overindulgence.

 

He came to the realization that Hermione Granger, the woman whom he’d harbored a crush on for years but whom he knew would never reciprocate his feelings, was in his home, offering him his favorite food, and asking to use his library all the while standing there in a sundress that barely brushed the tops of her knees. Draco couldn’t help but admire the dimples there as her knees gave way to shapely calves and delicate ankles. 

 

Since when did he find himself practically swooning over Granger’s ankles?  Today, apparently.  Sure, he’d always thought the witch was pretty… but he normally thought about the curve of her waist as it flowed into her hips or the arc of her practically perfect breasts as they peaked out of her modest blouses at the Ministry.  Ankles?  Not his usual first thought when he pictured the witch in his mind. 

 

Her plump, bottom lip was trapped between her teeth and there was something about her eyes… He blinked, realizing she was waiting for his respond. 

 

“Of course.  I know there are several books documenting Malfoy wedding traditions amongst others somewhere in the library.  Mother has said before there were a few rituals documented there that go back centuries.  Mitzy will know where to find them.” 

 

Hermione swayed on her feet, watching the way Draco’s lips moved as he spoke to her.  She fought the strangest urge to reach out and touch them, desperate to feel the silky skin of his lips moving across her fingers as he prattled on about ‘wedding traditions’ and house elves. He could talk to her about every awful thing he did as a former Death Eater as long as she could feel those lips moving somewhere over her skin.

 

Wait, what?  Where was this coming from? 

 

Draco was the epitome of pureblood heir now that he was out from under his father’s thumb and away from negative influences.  He was graceful and courteous, wickedly smart and chose to put his talents to good use in the Department of International Magical Cooperation.  Her position within the Ministry and his had first overlapped when she was asked to design and fortify several new security measures for an international magical convention being held in Austria where, of course, he was acting as the liaison between the Austrian and British governments.  Their animosity from school had fizzled as soon as he apologized for all of his shortcomings and malicious actions and from there, they formed a tentative friendship.  They saw more of each other over the coming months, especially after Harry and Theo began dating.  Slowly, Hermione’s circle of Gryffindors (with a spare Ravenclaw) grew to include several Slytherins and even a Hufflepuff or two within just a few months.

 

McGonagall would’ve rejoiced at their display of inter-house unity had they all still been Hogwarts students.

 

Hermione could only nod as he motioned for her to accompany him down the hall towards the library, but not before he plucked a fourth chocolate from the box. She took her sixth, for good measure, and popped it in her mouth savoring the flavor of the hazelnut cream within.

 

Approximately seventeen steps down the hall found the box of chocolates discarded on a hand-carved mahogany and granite table topped with a hideous Ming Dynasty vase while Draco had Hermione backed against a wall, one hand tangled in her curls the other brushing the sensitive flesh of her thigh. 

 

She wasn’t entirely certain how they got there, but she certainly wasn’t complaining.

 

He pressed open mouthed kisses along the column of her neck, drawing a whimper from her throat.  His tongue laved over her pulse point, nipping and suckling gently until her skin turned a pretty shade of red while his thumb slid down her throat as he drew her mouth to his.  Draco took in the subtle floral scent of the witch in his arms as he crashed their lips together in a frantic kiss he’d been longing for for longer than he had realized.  She looked and smelled good enough to eat and the taste and feel of her tongue dancing with his own nearly sent him over the edge into blissful oblivion. 

 

He found her even more tantalizing especially now that she tasted of chocolates.

 

Draco tugged at her curls drawing her even closer as he backed them further against the wall.  He could feel her pebbled nipples through the thin fabric of her sundress as she arched into him with a wanton moan.  Her breath hitched when the hand on her thigh slipped dangerously close to her knickers.

 

When they broke apart, the witch actually giggled as her head thudded back against the wall.  Her face was flushed and her lips swollen from their kiss.  “Can I consider your tongue down my throat a proposal? Because I warn you now, I don’t let just anyone kiss me that way,” she teased, nipping at his lower lip with her teeth.

 

“You let anyone else kiss you this way and I guarantee you that they’ll no longer have a tongue,” he growled against the skin of her neck as he roughly grasped her by the hips. 

 

“Is that the best you can do?” she giggled, raking her fingernails over his scalp.

 

Draco didn’t respond with words although when he rocked his hips against her she could feel his erection through the thin fabric of his trousers.

 

“Fuck,” she moaned breathily as she pulled her fingers through his fine hair.  Her use of profanity elicited some sort of primal urge in him and he picked her up with a grin, tossing her over his shoulder and apparated the two of them to his bedroom. 

 

She was laughing and smacking at his back, calling for him to let her down when they landed near his bed.  A swat to her backside made her suddenly forget whatever it was she was protesting about as she shrieked in surprise which was followed by a moan as heat bloomed over her arse.

 

“Do that again,” she commanded, her voice dropping to a husky timbre.

 

Never one to deny a lady a request, Draco’s hand landed firmly against her backside pulling another moan from the woman over his shoulder.  He tossed her down onto his bed where she bounced, laughing before he covered her body with his own, pinning her beneath him.

 

“I never knew you were so adventurous, Granger,” he purred against the curve of her ear.  She writhed beneath him, arching up into him as she pulled against where his hands were grasping her wrists, testing his hold. 

 

“Can you handle me, Malfoy?” she smirked.  Draco drew back, taking in the sight of the witch beneath him.  Her lips were parted sensuously while her brown eyes were blown and glossy with lust.  Curls fanned out around her head in haphazard halo and he wanted nothing more than to vanish their clothing and make her scream his name. She was the one clear thing in a haze of color.  She was everything.

 

“I think the better question is,” he paused, taking a moment to drag his lips along the line of her jaw, “can you handle me?” He punctuated the last word with a snap of his hips, grinding the evidence of his own arousal into the apex of her thighs. 

 

Hermione inhaled sharply, “do you doubt me?” The heat pooling in her abdomen was too much to bear and she met his thrust with one of her own, desperate for any amount of friction to relieve the ache between her thighs.

 

He looked suddenly unsure as he released her wrists and pulled back to kneel between her thighs, stormy gray eyes meeting chocolate brown.  Her use of the word ‘doubt’ cast him into a swirling storm of emotions.  He’d admired the witch from afar, though he knew she was unattainable and when they finally became friends, he thought that would be enough.  Yet here she was, writhing and wanton beneath him and he couldn’t help but doubt that he was worthy of her, that she would want him in any capacity beyond a tentative friendship that seemed just to one side of acquaintances most days. 

 

“Do you want this… with me?” he asked her, his voice quiet, solemn.

 

She pushed herself up, raising a tentative hand to cradle his cheek in her palm.  “Draco…” He leaned into her touch, his eyelids fluttering as her thumb swept along his cheekbone. 

 

“I’ve wanted this… wanted you… for years.” Her chest was heaving with her admission and she knew that if her cheeks weren’t flushed with her arousal they would be flushed for a completely different reason as she finally admitted to the man kneeling before her that she fancied herself quite taken with him. 

 

His forehead fell against hers as he swept her into his arms, pressing a soft, tender kiss against her lips.  “I want to court you, properly,” he muttered as her lips feathered another kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

 

“That’s all well and good and I will happily consent, but right now, I need you to _touch me_ , Draco.”  Hermione grasped at his arm and guided his hand to her breast. His hand slipped under the fabric of her dress and palmed the sensitive flesh until his thumb and forefinger found a pebbled nipple to roll between them.  The sweet sounds coming out of her mouth were like fuel to an already blazing fire.

 

Her fingers made swift work of the buttons of his shirt, pushing the fabric away so she could rake her nails over the smooth planes of his chest. 

 

Standing, he drew the witch on his bed to her feet, his hands finding the zipper at the back of her dress and drawing it down before pushing it from her shoulders.  It pooled at her feet and she was left in only a pair of dark blue cotton knickers.  She pressed her chest into him as she pushed his own shirt away from his body. 

 

Draco’s hands tangled in her curls as he let his lips linger along her temple, her forehead, and the top of her head while her hands grappled with his belt.  Unhooking the leather, she slipped her fingers beneath the band of his trousers and pushed the garment down over his hips.  He stepped out of them after toeing out of his shoes and took a step back, his fingers tracing over the delicate curve of her arms. 

 

She was beautiful.

 

“Lovely,” he muttered as he admired the witch standing confidently before him, though her cheeks still held a hint of a blush.  Several silvery scars traced their way across her chest and abdomen but they did not detract from her beauty.  If anything, they reminded him of her courage, her strength – qualities which endeared her to him all the more.

 

He spun her around, drawing her back into his chest as his fingers played along the silvery line of one of her scars where it disappeared under her knickers.  He brushed her curls to hang over one of her shoulders, nuzzling the curve of her neck as it met her shoulder with his nose as he breathed in a scent that was uniquely her.

 

While one hand slipped beneath the seam of her knickers, the other reached up to palm her breast.  Hermione arched her back, leaning into his touch as she whimpered with need.  “Draco, please… stop teasing.”

 

She felt him smile against her skin though his hands stilled.  “I’m merely savoring the moment.”

 

Her body felt as though it were on fire with her desire for him; her arousal seemed almost palpable and she ground her hips back against him in a bid to urge him into touching him again. 

 

Draco chuckled darkly, his breath ghosting over her shoulder as he obliged the whimpering witch. His fingers passed over the thatch of curls at the apex of her thighs and slipped between her folds, the evidence of her desire for him coating his fingers as he drew gentle circles over the tight bundle of nerves.

 

Hermione shuddered, her legs parting wider almost of their own accord as she threw her head back against Draco’s chest.  One of her arms snaked back between their bodies, her hand grasping at his erection through the fabric of his pants. She felt him shiver behind her as she ran her hand along his length while his tightened his grip around her waist. 

 

“Tell me you’re on the potion,” he purred against her ear as he drew more wonderful sounds from her throat with the way his fingers were sliding through the folds of her sex.

 

Hermione shook her head.  She hadn’t been on the potion for several years, seeing no need to take a monthly contraceptive as her last relationship barely lasted three months and that was over two years ago.  “Cast the charm,” she moaned.

 

Without withdrawing his hand from her knickers, Draco called his wand to him and muttered the incantation for the contraceptive charm he’d been performing on witches since he was sixteen. His hands stilled in their ministrations as the charm fizzled into a shower of blue sparks. 

 

“What the…” He tried again with the same results – a shower of sputtering blue sparks.

 

Hermione pulled herself up to a straighter posture form where she’d been leaning against him and looked down as he tried the charm a third time.  Another shower of blue sparks. “Why isn’t it working?” she whispered as he pulled his hand out of her knickers to rest along the curve of her hip. 

 

“Granger, are you…”  She cut him off with a shake of her head and a very firm “No.”  One of the reasons the contraceptive charm refused to take was if a witch was in the family way and she knew, for certain, that she was not.

 

Hermione called her vinewood wand to her from where it was tucked into a hidden pocket in her sundress.  The moment it smacked into her hand, she cast the charm herself to the same result – more blue sparks.

 

Her mind went back to the lecture they had all received from Madam Pomfrey during their third year and she recited the Healer’s words verbatim. “There are only two reasons why a contraceptive charm won’t work which will be evident by a shower of blue sparks rather than a warm pink mist.  The first being if the witch in question is pregnant and the second being…” the blood seemed to drain from her entire body, leaving her pale and shaking. 

 

“… if the witch has been subjected to a spell or potion meant to incite lust or love,” Draco finished quietly. 

 

Draco drew in a breath, “Granger, I didn’t…”

 

She turned around and pulled her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his chest.  “I know.”  She could feel it now if she concentrated hard enough on something other than the burning ache between her thighs.  The entire room seemed hazy with the exception of the wizard whose arms she had placed herself in. How had she been so stupid?  How had she not caught onto it earlier?  It was so obvious that she was disgusted with her own naiveté.

 

She and Draco had danced around one another for years with heated debates, snarky comments, random literary quotations, and a bit of harmless flirting.  Throwing herself at him the moment she stepped out of his floo had _never_ been in the cards for her.  It just wasn’t something that Hermione Granger did.

 

“Is everything a bit fuzzy around the edges?” Draco asked as he combed his fingers through her curls, trying his best to ignore the fact that they were both standing there in their underwear.  He refused to take advantage of a witch under any sort of illicit spell or potion and when he wasn’t focusing on the witch in his arms, he was attempting to will his arousal away by thinking about anything other than what he wanted to do to her right now.  It was an extremely difficult task because she felt so soft and she smelled so damned good.

 

“When you look at me, am I the only thing that is clear?  Everything else is a bit… muddled?”

 

Draco nodded, though he couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on the top of her head, especially now that he finally had the witch in his arms.  “Yes, there’s a haze to just about everything else in the room, except for you.”

 

Hermione’s body stiffened in his arms and she abruptly pulled herself out of his embrace.  She started pacing around his bedrooms, her arms gesticulating wildly apparently not caring, or not entirely realizing she was still clad only in her knickers.  “I’m going to absolutely eviscerate them,” she growled, “all four of them are going to be as good as dead.”

 

Draco stepped into his trousers and with a flick of his wand, they slipped up and over his legs, fastening about his waist.  He ran a hand through his hair and sat down on his bed, openly admiring the furious and nearly nude witch who looked like she wanted to break all of the windows in his room.

 

“I’m not following.”

 

She turned and faced him, hands planted on her hips and while the length of her curls covered the majority of her breasts, he could still see her dusky pink nipples peeking through. “Two of my best friends and two of yours _drugged_ us.”

 

Realization hit Draco as though someone had doused him with a particularly powerful _aguamenti._ “The chocolates.”

 

“That’s the only logical explanation for why we’re both in this… this state.” Hermione’s eyes glanced down towards her feet and she squeaked, apparently realizing she was barely clothed.  An arm flew to cover her breasts as Draco silently levitated her dress towards her.  She nodded in thanks and her cheeks turned a brighter shade of pink than before.  He vanished the mud on his trousers as she turned around to dress, never mind that she’d been practically begging him to bed her a few moments before, and pulled his white oxford back on, rolling up the sleeves to rest just under his elbows.

 

“Thank you,” she murmured once she was fully dressed.  Hermione drew in a deep breath and smoothed her hands over her dress before wrapping her arms around her waist.  “The chocolates must have been laced with something – a lust potion, probably.” Draco didn’t care for the sound her voice had taken, the anger had dissipated and she was left sounding defeated.

 

Draco crossed the short space between them and wrapped his arms around her, drawing the petite witch back into his chest.  “I’m not sorry.” 

 

“What?”

 

“Whatever our idiotic friends did brought us together,” he said, pressing another kiss to her curls. “How much time have we wasted, Hermione?”

 

“Too much…” she sighed, ignoring the fire pulsing through her veins as that wonderful, herb-like scent of his filled her senses.  “I still thoroughly intend to hex them all within an inch of their lives.”

 

“I would expect nothing less, sweetheart,” Draco chuckled, trying to recall exactly why she’d come to the manor in the first place.  “Now, weren’t you here originally to peruse my library?  Something about bonding spells for a pair of wizards who are to be married soon?”

 

The tips of Hermione’s fingers drew along the curve of Draco’s spine.  “Having unlimited access to your library is as much foreplay as anything else we did,” she remarked with a laugh.

 

“Such a swot,” Draco teased as one of his hands drifted down to swat her bottom.

 

Hermione grinned up at him, her dark brown eyes blazing with a combination of amusement and lust.  “Don’t tease,” she pouted.

 

“I’ll not take advantage of you when we’re both under the influence of whatever our friends dosed us with,” he reminded her, gently though it took all of his willpower not to divest them of their clothing once more and have his way with her.

 

“And after it’s worn off?” she asked, a hint of hope evident in her voice.

 

Draco feathered his lips against the curve of Hermione’s ear as his thumb drew a line down the column of her throat. “Your pleasure will be all _mine_.”

 

……….

 

**_The Next Day_ **

****

Hermione sat perched in a chair in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, eyes flicking over the day’s Daily Prophet.  Several glamour charms covered the love bites Draco had left on her neck after the lust potion had finally worn off.  She was certain that the squashy green arm chair tucked back into the stacks would forever be her favorite, though she held a distinct fondness for an ancient mahogany table that held up beautifully under their weight and seemed impervious to any sort of fluid.

 

With a wave of her hand, a teaspoon deposited two spoonfuls of sugar into her tea while a small carafe poured in the perfect amount of milk.  Another curl of her fingers and the tea was stirring itself.

 

She heard the floo activate and her eyes drifted to the doorway, a blonde wizard stepping across the threshold and into the kitchen with a smile on his face.  “Have I missed it?”  He asked, crossing the space to drop a kiss on top of her head. 

 

Her curls bounced as she shook her head.  “No, the four of them are still asleep, as far as I can tell.” 

 

Draco’s fingertips ghosted along the curve of her neck over the sensitive, bruising love bites he had left on her the day before.  “I like it better when I can see them.” 

 

“I had to cover them or they would know their plan worked,” she smiled, folding the paper and wrapping her arms around his waist.  The four of them had been practically waiting on the edge of their seats as she came back from Draco’s acting as though nothing had happened.  She handed the four of them each a scroll detailing several possible hand-fasting ceremonies she had found as the stared at her flabbergasted.  She pretended not to notice but confirmed that each had touched the ribbon in which the scrolls were wrapped before she sauntered off to her room to bed.

 

“What exactly did you do to them, my pet?” Draco wrapped an arm around her shoulder and waved his hand, his own cup of tea fixing itself.

 

As if on cue, a shrill scream echoed throughout the upper floors of the house.  Hermione’s smile turned into a satisfied smirk and soon, she and Draco heard the sounds of commotion above them.  “You’ll see.”

 

“Hermione Jean Granger!”, the shrill voice of Pansy Parkinson called out as she thudded down the stairs, clothed in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts while wearing what appeared to be Harry’s black rimmed glasses.  “What have you done?”

 

“I didn’t realize she even knew your middle name.” Draco mused, taking a sip of his tea.

 

“Oh, she doesn’t,” Hermione muttered as the furious witch stormed into the kitchen.  “Good morning, Pansy.  I trust you slept well?” Hermione asked as though she were none the wiser.

 

“I’m getting married in a week. I can’t walk down the aisle like… like this!”  The irate witch stamped her foot and glared at Draco and Hermione who were chuckling at her outrage. 

 

Before Hermione could even respond, Theo cut an imposing figure as he leaned against the door frame, though the fact that he was clad in a short floral nightgown made him seem much less threatening that he was attempting to be.  

 

“Florals suit you, mate.”  Draco chirped as he looked the wizard over, recognizing the opal earrings in Theo’s ears.

 

“This isn’t funny, Granger,” he snarled, crossing his arms over his chest and stepping into the kitchen, though his glare was fully directed at Draco.

 

“Oh, I beg to differ, Nott.  It’s quite the spectacle,” Hermione grinned, plucking a grape from the plate in front of her and popping it into her mouth. 

 

Draco hovered over Hermione protectively as Ginny and Harry entered the kitchen.  Ginny was clothed in a large Falmouth Falcons t-shirt and sleep pants which were practically falling off of her hips while Harry had wrapped himself in a fuchsia colored robe which barely graced his knees. If her speculations were correct, the wizard was clad in only a pair of underwear beneath the robe.

 

“Oh, lovely.  The gang’s all here.  Well, except for Blaise… but I suspect he had nothing to do with the events which occurred yesterday, did he?” Hermione stared down the four of them, her gaze like ice. “Especially how the four of you were so eager to obtain my assistance and even presented me with a box of my favorite chocolates.”

 

“Leave my husband out of this, Granger, and change us back!” Theo threatened.  Harry attempted to lay a calming hand on the wizard’s shoulder which Theo brushed off.  Ginny crossed the room, nearly tripping over the length of the pajama pants, and wrapped her arms around Pansy, pressing a kiss to the witch’s temple.

 

Harry sighed, “Did it work at least?” he asked, eyeing Draco and Hermione carefully. 

 

“Oh yes, the lust potion in those chocolates had us nearly ripping each other’s clothes off in the hallway just off of the receiving room at Malfoy Manor.” 

 

Harry grinned, even though Theo still huffed by his side.  “So, it worked?  You’re a… you’ve stopped…” The tips of his index fingers tapped together as he eyed the couple.

 

Without a word, Draco crooked a finger under Hermione’s chin and kissed her for the first time in front of all of their friends.  Harry was grinning like an idiot while Pansy looked a bit smug and Ginny looked rather pleased.  The only one who looked thoroughly put out was Theo.

 

Hermione stood up from her chair and leaned against the kitchen table while Draco placed his hands along her shoulders, standing at her back.  “If the four of you ever pull something like this again, I will make sure the change is permanent.  Are we understood?”

 

The witches and wizards who had plotted against Hermione and Draco, even though they still felt it was for their own good, nodded and a chorus of “yes” could be heard, though some sounded a bit more irritated about it than others.  

 

“Good.  The potion should wear off in a day or two.” 

 

Four sets of eyes went wide at her admission.  “What… what do you mean in a day or two?” breathed Pansy who was suddenly clinging to Ginny as though her life depended on it.

 

“I want to make sure you’ve truly learned your lesson.  You’re stuck in each other’s bodies for a few more days.”  Hermione smiled while Draco chuckled.  “Don’t worry, you’ll switch back in plenty of time for the wedding.” 

 

“But I have a fitting tomorrow… for… for my wedding robes.” Pansy cried while Ginny attempted to soothe the distraught witch.

 

“I suppose _Harry_ will just have to go in your place,” Hermione offered, eyeing the wizard in the short, fuchsia robe.  

 

“And tea with my mother and sister?” Ginny asked.  “The one where Harry is supposed to meet several members of my extended family?”

 

“I suggest you start training the witches currently occupying your bodies on how to act like you so that they don’t embarrass your mother at tea.  Ophelia would be less than pleased, I expect.”  Hermione suggested with a smirk. 

 

Draco pressed his lips against Hermione’s ear, speaking low so he wouldn’t be heard as the four witches and wizards before them started bickering about their predicament.  “Will it really take a few days to wear off?”

 

Hermione shook her head almost imperceptibly.  “No, only a few hours… but I want them to sweat about it for a bit,” she grinned, smacking a kiss against his cheek.

 

“I had no idea you were so devious, Granger,” he practically purred into her ear as he drew his arms more tightly around her.

 

“Are you certain you can handle me, Draco?” she asked with a grin, her brown eyes locking onto his stormy gray eyes as she rested a hand against his chest.

 

“Absolutely.”

  

**Author's Note:**

> This bit of fluff (and humor) was written for and dedicated to RavennaAngelline from Ao3! She correctly guessed the correct book referenced in Chapter 1 of my “One Day at a Time” fic. 
> 
> If you happened to get lost with who changed into whom there at the end, hopefully this will clarify it: Harry changed into Pansy, Pansy changed into Theo, Theo changed into Ginny, and Ginny changed into Harry. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! I hope you've enjoyed this bit of fluff.


End file.
